Poetry Of An Aspergian

The thoughts come to an end

And the echoes cease to annoy

Winds rest upon the hills

Patiently sleeping under moonlight

Now is where the real words come from

When I stop thinking about what to say

And let them say how they want to be felt

How they want to be held

I can’t control how they move us

But I want them to make us fall in love

Sweeping dances across empty fields

The vastness between our eyes closing

Time twisting knots in our hands

I’d never let loose

Except into your mouth whispers

Of the sins of my past

And the will to redeem them one last time

With you

Will you come

With me?

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